


Mile High

by KroganVanguard



Category: Castle
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, Honeymoon, Mile High Club, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 18:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1698275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KroganVanguard/pseuds/KroganVanguard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castle and Beckett get started on their honeymoon a little early, while still in the air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mile High

He might’ve come up with the plan a little while ago.

The Airbus A380 flying them to Singapore, on their way to the Maldives for the honeymoon is huge. A behemoth in the air that allows the airline to turn its first class compartment into the most luxurious aircraft travel standard there has ever been. Two beds lay side-by-side in a suite, and when he tells the airline that they’re traveling on their honeymoon, they tell him there will be a complimentary bottle of champagne and fresh strawberries waiting. 

That’s pretty much when he comes up with the plan. 

The ceremony goes off without a hitch in the Hamptons, and the rest of the day and evening is filled with friends and laughter and dancing and music, though they aren’t too tired to celebrate their first night as a married couple. Thrice. 

But it’s day after now, and they’re at JFK airport, walking down to their aircraft from the first class suite, her fingers entwined in his. He can feel the smooth gold of her wedding band against his skin, and deliberately brushes against it. She smiles across at him as he does that, completely understanding. Somehow, they’ve made it. Against all odds they’ve made it. 

“Mr. Castle and Ms. Beckett?” A short, plump and pleasantly smiling steward greets them at the entrance, and they both nod. “Congratulations. Singapore Airlines would like to congratulate you on your recent marriage, and wish you a pleasant trip and honeymoon. I’m Jonathan and I’ll be your personal steward for this flight.”

Jonathon guides them forward as he speaks, through wide aisles and gorgeous wood panelling of the aircraft’s upper deck. The section is largely empty, though he does spot a New York Giant in one corner, with his girlfriend, and an angry British chef who was always on television tapping away on his laptop in another.

“Here we are. Champagne and strawberries with our compliments. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

He smiles again, and slides away, leaving them to the compartment. 

\----

The first part of the flight is uneventful, and they’re lying there in the comfort of the twinned beds watching some not very funny comedy. The lights have been dimmed some time ago. With the door closed, and the rest of their suite closed off to the larger cabin, the general noises and hum of the aircraft is muffled, creating an oasis of serenity. Allowing them to imagine it is just the two of them, in their own private slice of heaven. 

She’s nestled into the crook of his shoulder, one arm lying over his chest, her hair pulled into a ponytail. His hand is lying on her waist, just over the baggy but comfortable sweatshirt she’s wearing for the flight, and he takes the opportunity to just ruck it up slightly till his hands are resting on bare skin.

He starts with the barest of strokes, whisper light on smooth skin, and he feels her shiver under his touch ever so slightly. He glances down, but her eyes are firmly fixed on the screen, so she’s determinedly ignoring him. That said, she doesn’t roll away from the touch, or bat his hand away.  
He grows bolder, firmer with his touch, spanning her hip, and then sliding under the waistband of the grey sweatpants she’s also wearing. That elicits a response.

“Castle, really!” 

She glares up at him as she speaks, but underneath the anger there’s the way her eyes are hooded, the way her voice thrums with anticipating. In return he does nothing but grin and slip his hand in further, till his whole palm his rest on her upper thigh, and the temperature inside their suite seems to rise up a notch.

“C’mon, Mrs. Castle.” 

She smiles and shivers a little bit when he calls her that, the anger slipping away, and she doesn’t protest when he twists and slides down a bit to press his lips to her neck. Her scent, light and floral and delicious, fills every breath as he suckles at her pulse point. She angles her head away, giving him easier access, and he fulfils her implied request, working his way up her neck to her jawline, alternating kisses with light nips and sucks till he finds her lips. She playfully backs away, so he tugs sharply on her ponytail, delighting in the breath she draws in, fire running through both their veins as he plays into one of their major kinks. He plants his lips on hers, drawing her into the kiss, till she’s the one coming at him, aggressively chasing his tongue with hers, her teeth tugging on his lips. 

“Caaaaastle…”

She doesn’t protest so much as lightly moan his name. His hand on her thigh tacks across her rear, squeezing one tight cheek and then other through her panties. His other hand rucks up her sweatshirt further, search for her bra, but then she abruptly rolls away and sits up. 

Pupils dilated, nostrils flaring she looks down at him, and then squeezes her eyes shut before nodding firmly.

“Fuck it, mile high club. It’s on our bucket list. Let’s do it.” 

Her hands reach down to the hem of the sweatshirt, pulling it over her head, and the comfortable grey bra swiftly follows. He flashes back to the memory of them lying bed in post-coital bliss, not long after they’d first gotten together, sharing fantasies and figuring out what turned them on. This had indeed been at the top of the mutual list for a long, long time, which is why he figured he wouldn’t have to do much to talk her into it. 

She slithers back down against him, stiff pink nipples enticingly close to his mouth, so he captures one in his mouth, rolling his tongue over it while he palms the other, rolling the peak between his fingers. She palms his bulge in turn, moving those slim and lithe fingers under his own sweatpants, bringing his length to a hardened state rapidly, and then tugs down at his pants to get them off. 

He distracts her by moving one hand down the front of her pants this time. She’s already huffing needily, breathy little gasps that each send a jolt of arousal through him, but the real proof of how aroused and ready she is comes when he trails his fingers gently over the front of her panties. He can feel the wetness, her clit standing at attention underneath the cotton.

He rubs his finger gently across the front of her mons through the thin cloth, and her head lolls back. Just as her mouth opens, he anticipates what’s going to happen and in an instant his other hand moves from the small of her back and clamps down over her mouth. The sound of her moan is muffled into his thick palm. He stills the hand down her pants, both of them pausing for a heartbeat to gauge if they’ve been discovered or not. 

No one knocks on the door. There is no indication they have…this time.

“Oh my dear wife, we’re going to have to find a way around that.” He whispers into her ear, and she doesn’t bite back the smile that blooms over her face when he calls her that. 

Instead, she chucks both her arms around his neck and wiggles her hips, shucking her pants till the pool at the end of their beds and motioning for him to do the same. 

“Side by side.” She brushes her lips along his, then deepens the kiss, tongue insisting on entrance to his mouth, stealing his breath away as her long legs wrap over his own. 

“Spooning?”

“No, I want to see you.”

Soon, they’re both all but naked. He is, and she’s taking full advantage, running her hands over his shaft, driving him crazy till he has to back away so he won’t climax too early. His wicked minx of a wife is still wearing her wet panties, so he slides his fingers through their side, over the light fur of her landing strip, dancing just around the edges of her clit and over her outer lips. Even that’s enough to wick his fingers with her juices, and he withdraws them to lick them himself, letting her watch, knowing it’s turning her on even more to see him enjoy her salty, tangy, heady taste. 

The next time his fingers go there, he tugs the panties off with her help, her long legs folding and unfolding so the sopping wet pair can come off. Her flexibility has more mundane uses too. When he has the black scrap of cloth his hand, musky with the scent of her sex, an idea strikes him. 

“Well, Mrs. Castle, I think I know how we can keep your volume…under control.”

He holds up her wet panties, and her eyes widen as he brings them up under her nose. With his other hand, he keeps circling her clit, toying with her, sliding his fingers over her outer lips, never quite entering her. Fingertips leave trails of her juices over her inner thighs, hips, waist, and the shaved region either side of her landing strip. Her hips buck insistently towards his fingers, but he doesn’t stop teasing, doesn’t stop letting the tempo build. His length lies hot, hard in between her thighs and she slides down, searching for it, but as soon as its head touches her silken heat, he jerks his hips away, teasing her further. 

“Open wide.”

He tugs back her ponytail as he speaks, and she moans audibly in anticipation. He takes the opportunity to stuff the wet panties inside her mouth, cutting off the sound. She clamps her teeth down around the cloth, and he can see her cheeks billow in and out as sucks her own juices off it. 

Oh God, he can barely take any more himself. Finally he slides one finger inside her pulsing heat, a second joining it quickly as his palm grinds against her clit. A minor orgasm races through her as soon as her curls his fingers up and hits the right spot inside her. She squeezes her eyes and shakes visibly around him, her velvet walls clamping quickly around his thick fingers, coating them further before withdrawing them again and licking them, savouring the taste of her.

She tugs at him, her hand on his hip, and this time when she brings her legs forward to scissor over his, he raises his hips to meet her. Her eyes are glazed with lust, breathing shallow, the scent of sex thick around them. Fire is burning in the pit of his stomach, need threatening overwhelm every other thought. The fact that they’re 35,000 feet in the air, surrounded by hundreds of people, and yet cocooned in their own private space, spurs them both on. 

It’s an awkward position, side by side and yet face to face, but somehow they make it work. She sinks onto his angled length with a little wriggling, enveloping his shaft in velvet and heat. Her walls flutter and clamp around him. Thrusting’s difficult, so he elects to rotate his hips in a circular motion instead, grinding against the nub of her clit. With their eyes locked, and the thrill of the location heightening every sense, he knows neither will last long. She loops her hands around him, delicious friction playing havoc with them both. He bows his neck, not quite able to reach her nipples, instead nipping and kissing along her collarbones, perfectly delineated and naked in front of him. She tastes of sweat and vanilla and happiness, intensifying the love he feels for her in this moment, of the gift the universe has given him in allowing them to find each other. 

The makeshift gag does its job as she claws at his back, her fingers raking along skin and muscle. She flutters and pulsates around him, and the way her breathing is short, and the muffled moans that reach his ears indicate her release is approaching. Her motions become erratic, and he reaches for ass, pulling her tight against him, driving himself in as deep as possible. 

“Come for me Kate. Come for me now.”

He whispers the words into her ear, and she does. The climax rolls through her, her silken warmth clamping hard against his shaft, juices squirting softly against him as she muffles her scream. His hand moves again to cover her mouth, adding another layer of insulation. The feel of her rippling muscles around his length was enough to draw out his own release, thrusting once as he spilled himself inside her, biting down hard on one naked shoulder to hold back his own grunt of pleasure as she wrapped her fingers tight into his hair. 

He closed his eyes, taking her in with every other sense, riding out the aftershocks of the pleasure, tempering his breathing. 

When he opens his eyes again, she’s watching him with those soft green pools, sated and languid. She’s moved her temporary gag aside, and he reaches up to press a kiss against her lips. He could hear her heart thump in steady rhythm with his own, a slight sheen of sweat cooling on her brow. An angry red welt is forming where his teeth have left their mark on her skin, and he brushes his fingers along it gently in apology, though he knows she doesn't mind.

She rolled away from him, looking for her clothes, and he made a soft snort of disappointment at the loss of heat and contact. 

A blanket was a poor substitute, but he made do as she put her pants and sweatshirt back on, and then leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, her lips curling into a smile. 

“That was a great start to our honeymoon, Castle. Thanks babe.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, unable to hide the broad grin that came over him. 

“My pleasure.”

She moved over him to the door, but turned back to look at him.

“Though I know we talked about naming our kids about where they were conceived, but there is no way I’m sanctioning Airbus or anything like that by the way, my dear husband. Just in case.”

Jonathan gave them an embarrassed but knowing smile when they disembarked, 12 hours later.

\---

He got away with using Jet as a nickname for their oldest daughter for years.

**Author's Note:**

> Those Singapore Airlines suites really exist! Perks of first class, eh. Anyway, leave me a note if you liked it.


End file.
